


It's Raining Somewhere Else

by clueless_nameless



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Asriel SAVED Chara, Asriel is dead, Big Brother Sans, Big Sans, Chara Has Issues, Chara Has Their Own Body, Chara Needs a Hug, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/M, Female Chara (Undertale), Female Protagonist, Female Reader, Gang Violence, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Lampshade is an asshole of a cat btw, Non-Binary Frisk, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Prejudice Against Monsters (Undertale), Protective Sans, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader works at Grillby's, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Romance, Sans Has Issues, Sans Needs A Hug, Skeleton Puns, Slice of Life, Speciesism, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, literature jokes, tags will update as the story progesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-05-03 14:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14570673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless_nameless/pseuds/clueless_nameless
Summary: The world shook as Monsters were freed from their imprisonment. Monsters were something of fairy tails. Big, tall, scary creatures that liked to snatch little girls like you when they misbehaved—at least, that’s what you’d always been warned as a child. Yet, these beasts were nothing like the horrors you'd heard of before.Now, after a year of being confined to Mt. Ebott, the monsters were free to join the bigger world. Seemingly overnight, shops were built and opened, houses were renovated, and it seemed as though the monsters would flourish. Yet, humans were not at peace with this change, and tensions were growing.And somehow, you'd landed yourself in the midst of this chaos--fresh out of college, jobless, and just looking for a place to start your life.





	1. Prologue

[One Year Previously]

_“Just three hours previously there was an unnatural earthquake, and as many callers have reported, it was big. Seismologists were baffled by the lack of pre-seismic signals—meaning that this earthquake was unpredicted and not of nature! They are still trying to find a definitive cause. We’re here on the scene at Mt. Ebott, where the tremors began.”_

You blinked blearily at the TV. A glance at the digital clock on the wall taunted you with a solid 4:00 am. You sighed, it just figured that you’d be up late the day before some important exams. You were only up in the first place to finish annotating a piece of anglo-saxon literature for your class. You shuffled slightly on the bed, the cheap mattress creaking with the little movements.

You were just in your early twenties, still attending University, literature major (and major nerd), and living it up in a cramped dorm on campus. Most Seniors and Juniors lived off-campus by now, but you didn’t have the money for an apartment, and your financial aid took care of on-campus living expenses. It might not be ideal, but it was better than paying the exorbitant prices for housing off the school’s grounds.

Your attention was drawn back to the little TV as the screen changed from one curly haired, seemingly frazzled reporter, to a scene from the sky. Some helicopter was circling the mountain, a shaky camera focused at the ground.

_“However, the tremors are not the only baffling thing.”_

You yawned, reaching your hands towards the ceiling for what felt like a luxurious stretch. The TV played on with you only half listening. The ground looked like it was moving, actually, it looked like something was pouring forth from a large cave on the mountain.

You knew Mt. Ebott. It was a small wild-life park, not very touristy, though the local schools loved to use it for fieldtrips. You remembered the stories of the mountain that the kids would tell to each other in hushed whispers—always sure not to catch the attention of the teacher, for surely they’d be angry at the outlandish claims.

Mt. Ebott was cursed, some said. People disappeared, they claimed.

The flood of movement from the cave entrance was indiscernible to your sleep deprived eyes. All you knew was it looked like a bunch of animals of different kinds, all crammed together, funnelling down the mountain. However, as the helicopter dipped lower, you were able to see them a little more clearly.

Suddenly, you felt much more awake. You tapped the volume button up four times, feeling trapped in an alternate universe. The words that came from the screen only increased your disconnection from reality. It was so surreal to watch countless beings leave the mouth of the cave: skeletons, bipedal animal-like creatures, small planes, mannequins, miniature volcanoes, and so many more. It seemed unending.

_“They’re claiming to be a very old sentient species, calling themselves Monsters. We’re on scene here, however we cannot get very close to the base of the mountain as the military has already moved in. The Government must be going wild at this discovery! An entire new people! Just appearing from the earth, it’s quite incredible to be here on this day._

_“History is being made today as more and more of these monsters leave their mountainous prison. We’ve received word from the military that these monsters claim to be a peaceful people, they only wish to reclaim their kingdom and live free.”_

A commercial began to play, cutting off whatever story you were getting. With a huff of frustration, you flicked through channels—only to realise every channel’s regular programming had been changed to various news reports about the creatures coming to light.

_“There have been many talks between military officials and who seem to be the monarchs of the monsters. Arrangements for a town at the base of Mt. Ebott is being discussed currently. It seems as though the President has arrived with another grouping of soldiers, as well as other various officials. As soon as we hear word of what is happening, we will let the public know. Our promise is to present news from the source! We’ll get back to you after the break—”_

The screen flashed black, then an irritatingly vibrant blue, with words scrolling across the screen. An alarm squawked from the screen, and you quickly pushed the volume down. Your eyes trailed across the screen, as comprehension washed over you.

The Government must have stopped other broadcasts in order to send this alert. You skimmed the sliding words, though no new information was presented. The alert ended, with a promise to show again in exactly an hour.

The screen flicked back to the reporter, but you turned it off. The room was swept with darkness, and you sat in the silence for a moment, just trying to process.

Monsters were something of fairy tails. Big, tall, scary creatures that liked to snatch little girls like you when they misbehaved—at least, that’s what you’d always been warned as a child. You’d giggle manically, then continue to make whatever mess you’d been caught creating. If your papa had found you, he’d laugh, then help you clean up, chatting with you the whole time. If your mother had been the one to find you… her anger was explosive.

She was an explosive person up until the very end. She struck fear into the hearts of those around her. Her ferocity was unmatched. She was a warrior queen in her own right, having gone through hell and back during her own childhood. You had loved her just as much as you had despised her. She was mean, harsh, and cold, but you knew she cared underneath that.

At least, you’d thought she had, until she left. Her whereabouts had been unknown for ten, nearly eleven years, and she presumed dead. You weren’t sure if you preferred the thought that she left unwillingly, rather than just walking out on you and papa.

Abruptly, you slid to the edge of the bed, and hopped off. Waving your arms around, and twisting, you stretched your sore muscles. It’d been a long day, full of classes, and carrying three literature text books about the size of you. You were getting closer and closer to the end of your schooling. You glanced at your desk, seeing the scattered papers and scraps of notes littering the surface. Your TV sat perched on the right corner of the desk, facing your bed.

Just looking at it made your head spin. Monsters? You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe something so wild and out there and… and… fantastical. It just didn’t make sense. How long had they been in that cave? Just how many were there? How were they going to join society? Would they even want to?

Your mind was swimming with more questions than you could count—your curiosity was insatiable. You just wanted to _know_. Who are they? Who imprisoned them, and why? How did they escape?

A lithe and soft form twined itself around your ankles, startling you from your thoughts. You managed not to squeak in fear, though, realising it was just your asshole cat: Lampshade. He blinked up at your with glowing amber eyes, and butted his head against your shin.

“Alright Shade, it’s been too much today. Let’s… call it a night.”

You scooped up the small black cat, tossed him onto the bed, and jumped onto it yourself. There was too much to think about, too much to consider, too much new information to process. You weren’t even sure you’d manage to find sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, the scene of those monsters flooding down the mountain in thousands replayed. It was new. It was cool. It was scary.

You sighed, you had class to attend, work to do, and exams to take. Your life felt so mundane now, so small, so nothing compared to the monumental event of a reappearance of an entire species. The reported was right, history really was being made.

Mt. Ebott, always considered a curse, had now produced a hidden and entrapped people. Could this be the start of a new era? Your mind wandered with the possibilities.

Briefly, before sleep claimed your exhausted mind, you wondered: would you meet a monster?


	2. The One with All the Warnings

They’d been on the surface for a year, and they’d been among the cities and towns for approximately a week. Although tensions were high, and there was an increase of anti-monster gang activity, there had been no real incidents of concern. Words, though only a step from actions, did not cause anyone physical harm at least.

The third day after the monsters were finally released in full was the day you found yourself wandering downtown, small backpack in tow, holding several copies of a half-baked resume you’d made with the help of your old university advisor and your papa.

You’d gotten a small, somewhat dingy apartment in a part of town that your father had proclaimed as “not right”. However, regardless of the quality of the apartment, or the environment of the surrounding buildings, you were just glad to be out of your cramped dorm, and even more glad to no longer have to live at home. Besides, it was what you could afford on your own, with your minimal savings.

Which, as it were, was dwindling rapidly. Who knew that furniture, appliances, and moving cost so much? You certainly hadn’t expected it.

Hence why you were prowling the local shops and stores in the hopes of finding some “help wanted” sign to remove you from your plight. You really didn’t want to go asking your papa for more money—especially after having just moved out. How would _that_ look as a statement to your new-found independence?

You stopped in front of a wooden building, the sign at the top reading in big red letters _Grillby’s Pub._ From the outside it looked barely lived in, but still worn down. The wood panelling was dirty, and in desperate need of a pressure wash. The windows, though new, were painted over with slurs against the monsters. You could only sigh at the crude words and drawings. The state of the outside of this little monster-run bar was similar to some of the other shops you’d seen today.

They’d only been living amongst people for a short while, yet already complaints were being raised, and monsters were being harassed.

Gingerly, you opened a big wooden door, peering through the entrance to see a well-lit pub of sorts. You let the aroma of greasy food wash over you for a moment, your stomach singing its praise. The door fell shut with a dull click, and you wandered toward the bar. The room was mostly empty, aside from one suited dog with a treat hanging from his lip, and a rather sick looking rabbit, whose head was currently facedown on the bar’s counter, her feet swinging idly from her perch on the stool.

There was no one at the register, but you could hear the grill in the backroom, and just barely you saw the flickering of a large flame. Behind the register were shelves, filled to the brim with many coloured liquids and glasses. On a regular piece of paper, written with nearly perfect calligraphic handwriting was “Help Wanted”.

You couldn’t stop the slight hop in your step at the site of that sign, as you moved closer to the register. The rabbit looked at you wordlessly for a moment, before laying her head back on the counter. The dog yipped once, and you smiled, giving a wave. It seemed polite.

The crackling from the backroom became louder, and suddenly a man of fire was standing behind the bar, washcloth in one hand, and shot glass in the other. He wiped it down, placed it on the shelf behind him, and fiddled with the other various bottles and tinctures on the shelves.

You felt awkward, standing in silence, watching this fire elemental do busy work. You couldn’t miss the tension in his shoulders, and if you weren’t so nervous, perhaps you’d have been more curious as to how a flame could hold a shape—let alone how a body part made of fire could show tension.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, I just saw your ‘help wanted’ sign,” he stills slightly at the tone of your voice, “and I was hoping I could drop off a resume or pick up an application or something, I mean, I know you just opened up and all, and I just moved into the neighbourhood, and uhm, well I mean, sorry, I just would really like to work here—”

You coughed, cutting yourself off.

“Okay, let me restart,” you began again, introducing yourself. Your voice was losing some of its nervous shake, “I’m new in town, and looking for work. I was hoping I could grab an application or drop off my resume.”

At this, the bartender turned toward you, “I can’t pay you in human currency yet,” his voice crackled and popped, like the fire in a campsite. It was comforting, warm, and pleasant.

“That’s okay, there’s an exchange place nearby, and I believe my landlord even accepts Ebott’s coin.”

He nodded, and you swore you could see the hint of a smile on his face—or, whatever the fiery equivalent of one would be. “Well, let me see what I can do for you then, okay?”

“Jennifer,” he rasps, and suddenly that sorry-looking rabbit from earlier springs to life once more. Her ears fly up, twitching, and her nose wriggles as she stretches.

“Yes Cap’n, I’m up. Just needed a break from all the moving, you know?”

“Show Miss, er,” he paused, glancing toward you questioningly.

“I, uh, Kit-Kat is my, kind of, name, but Kit works” you mumbled, face beginning to heat up with embarrassment.

Kit-Kat was a name you received after your eight year old, sugar-crazed self had, on Halloween, broken into the bags of kit-kats for all the trick-or-treaters and eaten much more than your share. Your mistake was your indulgence of the sweet but crunchy chocolate bars, because, after all, children were not meant to eat so much candy at once.

In the end, you got sick. Amazingly sick. Spectacularly. You missed Halloween. You still liked Kit-Kats.

“Show Miss Kit around, Jen, while I grab some paperwork.”

The rabbit nodded, ears flopping, “Alright sweet pea, let’s chat.”

The bartender retreated to the back, and you turned your attention to the spunky looking rabbit, Jennifer.

“If you’re going to work here, you have to understand, you are welcome to be here, appreciated even, but,” she trailed off for a moment and you felt a pit growing in your stomach at her tone.

“You are not and never will be one of us.”

 

* * *

 

The first week of working there wasn’t so bad.

The work was pretty fun, if you were honest. You, who had so much trouble talking to people, had found a suitable compromise. It was easy to serve people drinks or food, share a smile and a laugh, and partake in easy small talk. There was no pressure to be interested in their lives, nor they in yours. You didn’t have to worry about making a good impression because… well… delivering food to hungry patrons was the _best_ impression to make.

Jen’s warning still rung in your mind, though. It tainted each interaction with a seed of doubt. Did they like you? Were you out of place here? Would you be forced to leave? At least she was nice to you, despite her cold words.

All in all, you quite liked your job. The atmosphere of the place was warm and easy, regulars and newcomers alike coming together to share a few drinks and a few stories. Even Jen had warmed up to your after that initial warning.

She was funny, cracking jokes with you, and the skeleton that regularly showed up on late nights. She was also a flirt with the other customers—and with Grillby himself. It made you laugh to see her throw corny pick-ups at the flaming bar owner. His flame would flicker and sputter, displaying his embarrassment at her silly advances.

Jen was off in her own world today, counting coins in the register while you wiped down counters for closing.

It was days like these that you felt most at peace.

There you were, dressed in a uniform similar to Grillby’s own, hair pulled back for the convenience. You liked the way the vest fit, hugging to your waist but not making you uncomfortable. Some days you wore black dress pants, other days you work a skirt to go with the uniform. It was whatever the moment called for, whatever struck you as the most comfortable. Jen liked to stick with the skirt, claiming it gave her better tips. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the truth. (You couldn’t deny she had great curves and was obviously cute).

You swiped up the rag you’d been using to clean the bar top off and meandered over to where a rowdy guest had spilled his drink. There were only a few patrons still inside, the chatter had dulled significantly as the hours stretched on, and the only sound, aside from the counting of coins and you cleaning, came from a grainy jukebox playing slow jazz.

“Hey Kit, you mind closing today?”

You looked over to Jen, who had finished counting the till’s money, “Sure thing, Jen.” You wanted to ask why, but hesitated. You were only just getting Jen to talk to you, did you really want to pry into her life? Would she want you to? You fumbled with the string on your apron for a moment, before speaking up once more, “So, uhm, got plans or something?”

You cringed, unsure if you came across as friendly or nosy, but it seemed Jen didn’t mind either way. In fact, she perked up the moment you asked.

“Oh, honey bun, I’ve got great plans tonight!” She grinned conspiratorially, “I’ve got a date…”

“A date?” You smiled, reaching one hand to push the loose strands of hair from your face, as you ambled closer.

“Yes, dearie, a date!” She shook her shoulders, shimmying with a dopey grin on her face, “and I’ll have you know, he’s a _hot catch_.”

“literally,” a new voice cut in, belonging to a certain large and rather large-boned skeleton you’d seen frequent the bar on many occasions. He never ordered from you, in the same way some of the monsters purposefully avoided your tables, and you were shocked he was even interacting with you.

Though, from the tension you could see from the way he gripped his bottle of ketchup (something you didn’t even bother to question), he seemed to be shocked too.

His voice was deep, gruff, and you had to admit, you liked it.

“Oh Sansy, shut it! He’s more than just literally hot,” Jen laughed, but you only felt more confused.

There was a joke somewhere in here, but it was flying over your head.

“jen, i’ve got a bone to pick with you,” his grin widened fractionally at his own joke, though he didn’t relax at all, “you’ve been pinning after him for months, lemme celebrate with you. after all, without me you wouldn’t have the backbone to have asked him out.”

Jen snorted, rolling her eyes good naturedly, “Okay Sansy, baby, you’re right.” She turned to you, “I’ve got a hot date with a certain flamesman.”

And suddenly, you understood. Actually, not only did you understand, you were also beyond ecstatic.

Grillby was one of the few monsters who treated you kindly from the get-go—at this point you considered him one of your few friends. You felt comfortable talking to the quiet elemental and cherished the nights you’d closed with him as well as the work he put in to train you to work here. You’d become pretty comfortable working: making food, drinks, and hosting people with a smile.

“Really?” You exclaimed, unable to hold in your excitement.

Sans expression soured as you joined back into the conversation, however he didn’t turn away like the other times you’d walked by.

“Yes, really!” Jen squeaked back, “So, you mind closing for me?”

“Not at all! I’m happy for you!”

She squealed and did something unprecedented: she hugged you around the middle, lifting you off your feet, and spinning you around the pub. It warmed your soul.

 

* * *

 

Closing by yourself wasn’t something you were used to. After Jen had left, though, most the patrons also left aside from one: Sans. You didn’t understand why he stayed. Grillbz had left early in the day, so it wasn’t like he was waiting for his friend to get off work. Jen was getting ready for her date with Grillby.

He remained quiet though, just sipping on his ketchup, and flicking through something on his phone. A couple times you’d caught him staring, and you could see the suspicion in his eyes.

It was… to put it mildly, frustrating. You weren’t some criminal. You’d worked there for about a week. You’d been nothing but polite, hard working, and kind. Why did so many of the monsters still hold such distrust of you?

You wish you understood more. Even after a year of living on the surface, there was not much known about the monsters or their abilities. The only thing remarkable that humans learned was about magic, and the brief history of magic. Some humans were excited about the magical potential that monsters claimed humans also had. Others claimed them to be demons and blasphemous, but few groups paid those zealots any mind.

Scientists speculated that with the re-emergence of magic with the monsters, perhaps humans would become more in tune with their own soul, and potentially regain the power to wield magic. However, not much was being done about the research, even a year after the discovery.

It wasn’t until you finished closing down, that Sans finally stood to leave as well. He held open the door for you while you fumbled with the ring of keys. Once the building was locked and secured, he spoke.

“i don’t like humans.”

You nodded, already aware.

“you don’t seem to be bad, though. just don’t fuck up.”


	3. The One with Dust, Doughnuts, and Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings will go at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers.

A day off was just what you needed. Just you and ol’ Lampshade, hanging out on your little two-seater sofa.

The news was playing on the background on the same little TV from your cramped university dorm now stood on its own table, and little knickknacks decorated the surface. The living room was small, the kitchen just a room away, a short hallway breaking off from both to lead to the bedroom and the bathroom. The laundry was in the basement of the building, a communal area. You hadn’t gone down there yet, you were kind of dreading the thought of a big scary laundry-filled basement. Or worse, a nice laundry room where everyone ended up hanging around.

You stretched your arms towards the ceiling and shook them out. Shade only watched, amber eyes unblinking. Gently you placed your hand on his head, smiling as he pushed up into it. You loved the little guy ever since you’d snuck him into your dorm your Freshman year.

He was just a kitten, a runt, abandoned, stuck outside and in the rain—the perfect picture of pathetic. Now he was sitting tall, with sleek black fur, bright amber eyes, and a feeling of serenity. It’d taken weeks for him to trust you, let alone allow you to touch him, but once you’d won him over, then he was yours.

Lampshade and you were two peas in a pod.

A sharp pain on your finger had you ripping your hand away from Shade and his impish claws, “you little mother fucker.”

Lampshade was also an asshole.

He looked positively pleased with himself, licking a misplaced tuft of hair on his chest. You sighed, as rude as Shade could be, he was cute.

“Shade, it’s you and me, you know?”

He hopped off the couch, padding away with his tail swishing.

“Little mother fucker.”

You looked back toward the TV, head turning in confusion as you watched snapshots of the very first report on monsters that you’d watched last year in the middle of the night. As the shots progressed, you began to see images, quotes, clips, and other information of the monsters and how their year on Mt. Ebott was spent.

In addition, the newscaster was adding her own opinion into the mix on just how these monsters affected humanity, and, well, they didn’t seem to be very positive.

You huffed with frustration; you couldn’t understand why people were so closed minded.

The picture changed, showing images of a vandalised storefront with broken windows and graffiti covering the bricks. Each word was cruel, and the pictures drawn were unnerving. The skin on the back of your neck prickled with discomfort as you listened to reports of violence against monsters—what confused you, however, were the claims from various humans that monsters had instigated the violence.

From what you knew of monsters, even just the two weeks interacting with them, was that they may be protective of their own kind, but they were not a violent people, and they were not a cruel people. Unfortunately, it was a monster’s word against a human’s, and in the current climate, that just wasn’t enough.

They didn’t stand a chance.

You stood, the antsy prickle in the back of your neck having travelled through your body. Suddenly, you wanted to be out and about—like you could expel this negative energy by walking around. It didn’t feel good to be sitting here, watching the news show the horrible treatment of monsters, despite their defamation of monsters.

It was time for a walk around town, maybe you’d find a shop to hang out in, or maybe you’d explore past the couple of blocks you’d grown accustomed to.

 

* * *

 

You strolled down the street feeling only marginally out of place, though recently you had noticed more humans frequenting the town. Despite that, though, it was clear how segregated the area was. You lived in Ebott because of cheaper housing. Monsters lived in Ebott because their lack of rights meant that Non-Discrimination policies didn’t apply to them, and this was one of the few towns that accepted monsters though with the proximity to Mount Ebott, it didn’t seem as though there had been much choice. After all, where else would the monsters go?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t have time to register the apparently very sturdy body standing in your path—you bounced off them, squeaking, arms pinwheeling as you started to fall backwards. Strong hands grabbed your biceps, stopping what would’ve been a spectacular wipe-out.

“Watch yourself, pipsqueak,” a feminine voice growled.

You looked up into amber eyes, er, _eye_ and smiled apologetically, “T-thanks for catching me, I was just off in my own world! I’m so sorry for running into you.”

The tall fishy-looking lady released you, “Don’t sweat it! I’m Undyne, captain of the Royal Guard, it would take more than a puny human to take me down.”

You laughed awkwardly, “Well, uh, that’s a relief.”

She nodded, ponytail swishing with the movement. You gave a short wave and continued along the sidewalk, looking at the various storefronts for one that looked interesting to visit.

 

* * *

 

Bells chimed as the door closed behind you with a soft click. Immediately your senses were overwhelmed by various sweet aromas—complimented by the bitter smell of freshly ground coffee. The café was cute filled with white chairs around white tables and lacy lavender cloths on top. Each table had a fancy menu, and the makings of fresh tea.

You moved along the wall to a table in the corner, taking in the rest of the café as you did so. The walls were a deep royal purple, with accents of black and white to create a very gothic vibe. It matched the monster behind the counter perfectly. She was dressed so cutely, despite the dark colours. She was wearing a dress with ribbons and an apron with ruffles on top, her hair was pulled into pigtails, tied with ribbons, and each of her six arms were adorned with little ribbon bracelets, bows and all.

You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, her eyes and the way each blinked independently of the other—it was captivating. You’d seen many of the monsters who’d frequented Grillby’s, but most of them were of similar species, and it wasn’t often you met a kind of monster you hadn’t yet seen.

This was Muffet’s Patisserie, so it followed that the large spider monster who was pouring two cups of coffee and holding a tray of sweets at the same time, was probably Muffet. A large skeleton marched up to the counter and began talking animatedly to Muffet. A fish-like monster stood beside him, just as large, and somehow even more intimidating than the skeleton.

You pulled out your phone, flicking through some notifications from the social media accounts you actually paid any attention to. There wasn’t much of interest though, and soon you found yourself watching the TV mounted in the corner of the café.

It showed more of the same disturbing images of vandalism and threats against monsters. So far, the damage was only property, and the threats had remained just that—threats. Still, the words set you on edge. You, with your love of writing and appreciation for the form, understood what a short distance threats were from actions.

You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but it seemed the world had some animosity for these new comers.

The door chimed again, and a human couple walked in, also taking their place towards a quieter corner of the café. The man looked distinctly uncomfortable, though the girl seemed more at ease as she chatted happily. Were they on a date?

“Hello dearie, what can I get you?”

The voice was feminine and sweet but laced with venom. You looked up from where you’d been staring to come face to face with the devilishly cute looking Muffet. Now that she was close, though, you could feel an almost predatory aura emanating from the dolled up monster.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I haven’t even looked at the menu yet, I was just admiring the shop! It’s got such a nice atmosphere,” you rambled, “but, uh, I mean, I don’t want to waste time, and well, I’m terribly indecisive anyways, so, like, what would you recommend?”

Muffet snickered, not unkindly, and raised a placating hand, “Not to worry, dear, my darling spiders and I will take care of you. How about some of our freshly brewed coffee? Our beans our roasted by none other than Grillby himself, the owner of that pub down the way.”

You nodded, “Ah, yeah, I work there!”

If Muffet was surprised, she hid it well, “Yes, he is a great flamesman, and a smart business man—you can never be too business savvy, you know?”

There was a glint in Muffet’s eyes at the mention of business, and you felt like you understood her a little better. Just like some people may be motivated by money, Muffet was motivated by profits too. Though, it seemed out of character for a monster to be motivated by greed—especially with how communal the species proved to be.

“Anyways, dearie, can I get you a cup of our house coffee and a spider doughnut?”

“A spider doughnut?”

“Yep,” she chirped, “made from real spiders, with care.”

“Err,” you started, trying to decide quickly how you felt about the thought of eating spiders—not to mention the fact that these were _monster_ spiders, meaning they were sentient creatures. As if to prove your point, a small spider crawled across your table and gestured at Muffet. It seemed to be communicating.

Muffet, feeling your indecision, only smiled wider, “I understand if it seems a bit weird to be eating something made of fellow monsters, however I assure you that this is a tradition of our spider people.”

“Oh, really? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

At your apology, something in Muffet seemed to loosen. Her smile was less sharp, her eyes less steely, and her movements a little more relaxed. It happened so quickly you almost didn’t realise how tense she’d been previously.

“It’s not a problem, dear, it’s a monster tradition to take the dust of the deceased and spread it on loved objects so we remain with our loved ones. It just so happens that spiders love treats, so we make our treats with the love of our ancestors. It’s perfectly safe, and in fact, healthy for anyone to have.”

You felt reassured the more Muffet explained, “Well, thank you, I think I’ll definitely take the coffee and spider doughtnut then.”

“Coming right up,” she called, whipping away to serve you your food.

Only a minute later she returned, placing a steaming cup of coffee and small plate down on your table, “It’ll be 15 g.”

You almost laughed at her bluntness, quickly reaching for your wallet to pay for your food, “Thank you, Muffet.”

“Of course, dear! Now, enjoy!” She sauntered away after that, tending to the other customers present.

You sipped your coffee and contemplated the best way to consume this doughnut. After a moment’s deliberation, you broke off a piece and dipped it in your coffee. In this way, you munched through your afternoon snack.

You didn’t even hear the door’s chimes ring again, nor the lock, nor did you see the gun in the hand of the masked man who entered.

It wasn’t until a shot was fired, and screams rang out, that you realised the danger you were all in.

“Get the spider freak, and don’t be squeamish,” a gruff voice called to his companion. The rest of the patrons were cowering in their chairs or under their tables. The other human couple seemed just as nervous as the monsters.

One of the intruders scanned the room, spitting at the monsters in contempt. He locked onto you, and began marching your way. The other continued towards Muffet.

“What’s a little helpless human girl doing in a place surrounded by big bad monsters?” He jeered, words slurred. The closer he got, the more the stench of hard alcohol burned your nose.

You flinched as he grabbed your arm, pulling you out of your chair and onto the floor.

“Huh, little girl?” He asked, shaking you roughly, “you’re just a little species-mixing, monster-fucking, traitor. In my eyes,” he continued, “you’re just as bad as _them._ ”

He gestured at the others monsters, who shied away from his gaze, then spit at the ground once again. Muffet was pushed to the floor beside you, and though she did not fight, her eyes were filled with rage, not fear.

“Dust the freak, off the girl.,” he ordered, then pointed his weapon toward you, while his companion aimed at Muffet.

You couldn’t describe the feeling in your chest, of both panic, rage, and acceptance. Was this really going to be the end to your short life? You were going to die to an act of gang violence, against monsters, alongside an innocent shop keep? You closed your eyes against the tears that welled unbidden. You didn’t want to die.

“Let this be an example,” he shouted, then readied his gun, “we do not tolerate monsters in our society, and we do not tolerate monster fuckers either. Good riddan—”

There was a shock of power through the room—something you couldn’t describe, and your eyes popped open at the sensation. Had you already died?

Then you noticed the glowing bones entrapping one assailant, while the other struggled against the firm hold of the large fish from before. Both had been stripped of their weapons and were unable to move. They struggled, spat, and jeered at the monsters even in their defeat.

A red and impossibly large glove appeared in your field of vision. You followed the glove to the arm and up to the face of a skeleton. And despite all logic, telling you that there was no way bone could be so expressive, he looked concerned.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT, HUMAN CUSTOMER?”

He was also _loud._

“Y-yes, I’m okay,” you answered, then glanced beside you at Muffet who was being comforted by various other monsters. She didn’t seem upset, merely enraged. It was less that she was receiving comfort, and more they were just trying to sooth her anger.

“I AM PAPYRUS, AND I AM SORRY YOU HAD TO EXPERIENCE THAT. HOWEVER, WE, THE ROYAL GUARD, WERE HERE TO DEFEND YOU. SO DO NOT FEAR!”

“Thank you, Papyrus,” you smiled shakily, adrenaline still pumping. You couldn’t help the sudden exhaustion you felt. You’d never been in such a scary situation. Sure, you’d experienced a harsh childhood, but you’d certainly never had a gun pulled on you before like this.

“Papyrus,” a feminine and commanding voice called, “the canine unit is on their way to pick up the assailants, we can be on our way in a minute. I’m sure Asgore will want to know what happened.”

The large fish monster made her way toward you, her bright hair swinging behind her. She cut an impressive figure with her bulging muscles and lean form. Not to mention the eye patch and scar that was just barely visible beneath it, as well as the confident way in which she carried herself.

She was impressive, to say the least.

“You,” she said, startling you from your admiration, “I think we will need statements from both you and Muffet—Asgore may even want to speak to you himself.”

You gulped and nodded. Your statement? Given to Asgore? The literal king of monsters? It was all too much. You wanted to go home. You wanted to lay down. You wanted your only problems to be that your cat sometimes liked to scratch and nip, not that you had a near death experience as a result of prejudice and hate for a species that had done nothing to deserve it. And now, an audience with the king?

The monster may not have put it in such a way, but that’s what it sounded like to you.

“Okay,” you agreed, “S-should I prepare something, or present myself in any kind of way?”

She looked at you like you’d grown a second head, “Nah, kid, you’re just going to see Asgore. He’s big and all, but he’s really just a big softy.”

Papyrus nodded, “UNDYNE IS RIGHT. ASGORE IS COOL, ALMOST AS COOL AS ME, AND HE IS ALSO A VERY KIND KING. YOU DON’T NEED TO BE NERVOUS, HUMAN.”

Undyne, you guessed, clapped you on the back—knocking the breath from your lungs for a good minute, and tried to give you a bit more reassurance, “Yeah, Paps is right. He’s cool, likes tea, and tends gardens.”

The canine unit entered, and Papyrus released the bone-trapped attacker to them, while Undyne presented the accomplice she had subdued and tied up.

“Come on Muffet, you mind taking a moment from work to give the king your statement as well?”

Muffet moved from the fussing huddle of monsters and dusted herself off, “Of course, dearie. These people cannot be allowed to roam our towns freely.”

Undyne and Papyrus nodded in agreement, and you couldn’t help but feel inspired by the vigour these monsters showed after such a scary attack. It filled you with some kind of determined feeling.

“Alright, pipsqueak, looks like we’re about to go to the king.”

Yes, you would go to the king, and these criminals would be brought to justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Harsh language, prejudice, violence/threats


	4. The One with the Thousand Yard Stares

“We can’t do anything, Undyne, I am grievously sorry, but I do not currently have any power to punish humans, even if they are criminals, as they do not fall under monster jurisdiction. I’m afraid we have to turn this over to the police.”

“What!?” Undyne shouted, her hands clenched at her sides, “What do you mean we have to turn this over to the police!?”

You could feel her rage, and you understood it, too. In reality, you were angry too. You’d just been scared out of your mind by two gross bigoted men who had no respect for life, and now you were learning that these bigoted men were going to be handled by the police, who was also undoubtedly prejudiced against the monsters?

It was unfair. It was frustrating—no, it was enraging.

Asgore looked pained, and despite your frustration at his helplessness, you also knew however angry you were about the situation, he was surely leagues angrier. In this moment though, the king remained composed, the only sign of distress coming from the steely coldness in his tired eyes. He rubbed his forehead with a massive paw, “I know this is not ideal, Undyne, however we have a very fragile agreement with the human Government regarding our freedom, and I am not willing to subject my people to more years of imprisonment because we do not compromise just a little and follow the humans’ authority.”

She scoffed, and even Papyrus looked ready to say something—which would have been surprising as he’d been nothing but immensely respectful toward the king at that point.

You stared at Asgore, who stood in front of his new home in Mt. Ebott. He wore a patterned button down, slightly ruining the kingly image he held. You couldn’t help but feel so angry on behalf of these monsters. They’d done nothing to deserve this hate. Even the king was just a kind man, wanting to spend his days ruling a peaceful kingdom, and gardening the large yellow blooms that covered his yard.

It wasn’t fair that they suffered, and you couldn’t stand it.

“You can’t do anything even though it was monster-owned property that got attacked? That’s under human jurisdiction? That’s not even a compromise! We’re not even compromising at all! We’re just controlling! How can you not just hate us?”

A shocked, but contemplative silence met your little outburst, and you shrunk in on yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I know it’s not my place. I just… I keep seeing stories like these on the news, and no one is doing anything because everything is getting skewed. People are blaming monsters, as though they incited violence on themselves! It’s just… it’s just not right.”

Before anyone could speak, Asgore laid a large paw on your shoulder. Its weight was heavy, but grounding.

“It is alright, little one. This is not your battle, however I appreciate your fire. Humans like you will help these _compromises_ become true compromises. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us, I am sure, but I believe in harmony between our peoples.”

Despite the firmness of his tone, and the flash of determination in his eyes, there was a lack of conviction in his stance that had you wondering just how much he actually believed that. A year of continued imprisonment after thinking you’d been freed from Mt. Ebott must have taken its toll on his belief. Not to mention the overt and excessive hate monsters received daily.

Undyne was watching you, a look of curiosity in her eyes, and the glint of something else. She looked… almost… hopeful? Asgore’s words echoed in your mind: _humans like you will help._ You wondered, were you helping? Could you do more from your own position? You didn’t know. You didn’t think so.

All you could do was just to keep doing what you’d been doing. Perhaps if more people just acted as they did before, then the monsters would be more normalised. Maybe there wouldn’t be such hate in the air if people just understood that everyone wanted the same thing.

“Asgore, Muffet also had some suggestions regarding future safety. She said some of her spider kin have volunteered to patrol various establishments owned by our own citizens. They would be able to relay messages much faster than any other patrol. I, however, also want to increase shifts on the royal guard.”

He looked tired, “I will talk to Muffet now.”

Asgore rubbed his chin in thought, looking toward the garden behind him, “these flowers came from Undeground, but they were originally of the Surface. They thrived in the Underground, I had a bed of them in the Castle. I consider how well they are doing here.

“They’re growing, flourishing, and reclaiming their natural place on the Surface. I truly believe that we are like these flowers. We will grow and flourish, but just like the flower, it will take hard work and care to ensure that future.”

He looked towards you, Muffet, Undyne, and Papyrus with more hope in his eyes than was there before. You couldn’t help but feel a little at ease in the presence of the king. He may not be completely assured of a simple and fair future, however he would work for his people to get there.

“It was nice to meet you, little one. I’m thankful to see young humans who are still filled with care for others,” he smiled, eyes crinkling reminding you of the cliched images of Saint Nick, beard, rosy cheeks, and cheerful smile. Asgore had the same fatherly aura.

“Thank you for listening to my story, I hope that these people are brought to justice.”

Asgore nodded, “Indeed, let us pray for a fair resolve to this conflict.”

He looked ready to say more, however the door opened behind him and one wild-haired child poked their head out. They looked to be about thirteen, their face round and sweet in the way that only a child’s could be. Their large brown eyes roved over the small gathering, resting on you for a moment.

Somehow, this child’s stare made you feel as though your soul was exposed. This child looked as though they’d seen a thousand years of life and had come to realise the triviality of it all. You felt distinctly uncomfortable.

“Ah, Chara, my sweet child, I will be in a moment. Would you mind preparing some tea for Muffet and I? We have some business to attend to.” He turned to your group, “I apologise, I must get going now. Frisk isn’t home right now and Chara is left to her own devices.”

You watched as Chara slipped back inside without so much as a look back. You knew the name Frisk—it was all over the news after all: ‘foster child taken in by monsters!’ but you hadn’t known about a second child. Idly, you wondered where she had come from. Did she have family? Surely if she did, she would’ve reunited with them, right?

Feeling unsettled, you shook yourself, waved goodbye to Asgore, and followed Undyne and Papyrus as they marched towards Papyrus’ bright red car. He informed you that it was the first thing he’d purchased—which, made sense, as monsters currency was initially accepted without question. The first three days of their freedom, they were truly free, before they were re-corralled on Mt. Ebott.

“Hey, short-stuff—” Undyne started, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere else, “thank you for talking to the king and being honest. You’re not bad for a human.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would,” you stated, waving your hand as though you could wave away your flustered feelings. You weren’t good at accepting compliments, nor thanks.

“UNFORTUNATELY, HUMAN, IT DOES NOT SEEM TO BE JUST WHAT ‘ANYONE WOULD DO’,” he used his large red gloved hands to put quotations around his words, “SO, YOU ARE A GOOD HUMAN.”

You smiled, “well geez, thank you.”

Undyne laughed, “ngah, you guys are soft!”

 

* * *

 

They drove you home, back to the dingy apartment building you lived in, but before you took even three steps from the car, you heard Undyne call you as she leaned out the door of the car.

“Hey, kid, I think you’re cool,” you could see some red on her scales.

You could also see Papyrus in the driver’s side of the car pretty much telling Undyne what to say, “would you like to… er, go on a human and monster friendship advent—NGAH! Papyrus that’s dumb! Why would I ask that!?”

You giggled, drawing her attention again, “I’d love to. Can I give you my number? I would like to see you guys again.”

Undyne huffed, reaching a hand out for your phone. Quickly you dropped it into her hand and watched as both Undyne and Papyrus entered their information in it. Suddenly, you had acquired two new friends.

With that done, they sped off, and you wandered into your apartment building. Only to be surprised by a familiar looking skeleton, in the company of a child that looked eerily similar to Chara. The front desk waved at you, drawing the attention of the skeleton and the child. Faster than you could escape, both looked over.

Sans only raised a brow bone and gave a little half-wave. Meanwhile, the child gripped harder on Sans’ hand, watching you with the same wise-beyond-their-years stare that Chara had. It wasn’t nearly so disconcerting, though. There was a determined kindness in their eyes and features you couldn’t quite explain.

You waved before entering the stairwell, the only thoughts on your mind were of cuddling Lampshade, watching cheesy sitcoms, and enjoying some tea.

It wasn’t until late at night, as you laid in your little single bed, mattress on the floor since you hadn’t picked up a box spring for it, that you began to replay the days’ events. The couple of humans in Muffet’s parlour had given you hope for true acceptance, despite the male’s obvious discomfort. The intruders though had thoroughly destroyed that fledgling hope.

The monsters however only proved to be kinder than thought before. Every interaction you had with them, you understood more and more why they were so wary of humans. The warnings you’d received, the cool distance some monsters gave you, the way some avoided your gaze—it made sense. All they’d learned was that humans would inevitably betray them.

You just had to work harder to prove that wrong.

And now, with Undyne and Papyrus’ contacts, maybe you could start doing so. You could prove to monsters that humans could be just as caring as they were. Maybe you could prove to the humans, too, that monsters were just the same as them.

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, looking pensive. You could help. Humans like you could help.

You were filled with determination.


	5. The One with the Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a minute since i last updated! i'm sorry about that! i still have a lot of plans for this little story, and i'm definitely going to keep writing it. there'll be lots of random fluff and angst don't you worry :')

Work started up again just days later, and you fell back into the swing of serving customers during the evening and closing the bar at night either with Grillby himself, or Jen—who, as it happened, had really warmed up to you after her date with Grillby.

However, you also suspected it had to do with the attack at Muffet’s parlour. Monsters all over had heard about it, though unsurprisingly there was nothing on it on the news aside from a brief mention that “yet another monster establishment was harassed”. It made you sick how they were covering up the truth.

You weren’t even sure if those two attackers had been properly taken care of.

It was scary to think they could still be free and on the prowl.

You swiped a damp rag across the bar, idly cleaning as you waited for time to pass. You’d gotten another closing shift, your fourth in under a week. You knew it was just how the availability was working out—after all, you were working on a resume for a potential academic position at the local university and Grillby knew you were, so he gave you the day time to both work on that and to just enjoy. He was supportive for a boss, especially one who spoke so infrequently.

Sans ran a bony finger around the mouth of the almost empty ketchup bottle. He hadn’t been the warmest of fellows, but it had changed recently. It seemed like in light of what happened at Muffet’s, he was also being a little bit kinder.

“Do you want another?” You asked, moving down the bar toward him, absently wiping down the counter and grabbing any discarded drinks or food items. It was second nature now to tend to the bar and customers. Or, perhaps not as easy as second nature—but it was definitely becoming less arduous and more enjoyable to be at work.

You imagined this was why Grillby chose this work. He got to be both social and hardworking, and rest assured with the knowledge that he was providing a place of sanctuary for the monsters on Ebott.

“nah, kid.”

“It’s Kit, not kid,” you quipped without thinking.

He only grunted though.

You wanted to say something, to have the kind of light and teasing conversation Jen might have with Sans, but he never took to your jokes the same way. You figured he was just stubborn, as silly as it was, you were quite determined to win him over eventually.

You continued to close down, counting the money in the till, bussing tables, sweeping the floors, turning off and scrubbing the grills, etc. You worked diligently and in near silence, San’s fiddling with his phone—the clack of his boney fingers on the keys—the only other noise accompanying you.

“Are you staying until I lock up?” You asked curiously.

Typically, on a day you would close, Sans would take an opportunity to leave early—usually by the time Grillby had left, he’d be gone. He wasn’t the most social.

“yeah,” sans continued to play with the empty bottle, “do you want me to walk you home?”

Silence met his question. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the ability to talk so much as you were so taken aback by the question you could hardly comprehend it.

So, being yourself, you chose to answer with a baffled question: “why?”

He seemed uncomfortable, and perhaps surprised by your response, “uh, well, i don’t know if you recall, but there was a recent assault on a café near here…?”

“O-oh.”

More silence, and you began to regret your own stupidity. In all honesty, his question warmed your heart. _Aww, he’s concerned_ , you thought, a small smile forming. Quickly, you turned away, hoping he didn’t see the soft look on your face.

As you wiped down the other counter, you babbled, “I see, thank you, Sans. Uhm, that would be nice, if you don’t mind. It was… scary. I’ve been a little anxious about it and all. Muffet is so nice and she got targeted for no reason. All the monsters are targeted and it’s just horrible. I mean I hoped humans would be a little better, but instead we’re all just… just… ugh.”

He snickered, “no bones about it—they’re spineless.”

You nodded, before realising he might not have been able to see it, “Er, yeah. I mean, it takes a really insecure and bad person to hate someone for being… different.”

You continued to close down, cleaning the tables, pushing chairs back to their proper places, and turning off any lights and appliances—the entire time, chatting amicably with Sans. It was probably the most he’d ever interacted with you, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his lame puns, as well as throw out a few of your own.

You didn’t have the same finesse in delivery, but even Sans chuckled at a few of your attempts.

It felt good just to chat and do your work. You found yourself thinking, more and more, about how cool Sans was, how funny, and how charming—then you froze for a moment at that thought.

A giddy feeling erupted in you, were you crushing on him? Just from a little kindness? You could almost laugh at the absurdity. You always did get crushes quickly. They almost always waned just as fast, though. Really, you just wanted to be his friend.

He walked you home, and you chatted happily the entire way.

 

* * *

 

“This is me,” you said finally as the two of you reached your door. The hallway you stood in was dingy, and if you weren’t quite so tired you might be embarrassed by the quality of the place you lived, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry over that now. Sans seemed pretty laid back besides, and though he wasn’t the most welcoming of people, he wasn’t judgemental. Plus, you remembered, he might actually live in the same building. Your remembered him and the other kid like Chara (who must've been Frisk).

There was a moment of silence as you considered each other.

“well—” Sans started.

“Do you want--?” You began at the same time.

You both paused, a short laugh coming from Sans. Blushing, you fumbled with your keys and the door. It was a relief when the door opened.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come in, but it is late… I understand just heading home… Thank you for walking me.”

He grinned, “it was a walk in the park. you’re not so bad, kit.”

You figured that was the closest to a compliment you’d ever get from him—and he even used your name for once!

“i’d stay and chat, but i have a brother that needs a bed time story.”

“Okay! Well, thank you again, Sans. I’ll… see you.”

“see you.”

You stepped inside, closed the door, and sighed. The pounding of your heart only confirmed that you had a bit of a crush on him. You wanted to squeal, but you weren’t sure he was gone yet. It’d be mortifying if he heard your happy little exclamations.

Quickly, you turned from the door and fast walked further into the apartment, straight past your little living room, and right into your room.

Only to have your mood instantly soured by a certain fluffy cretin.

“Lampshade… what… the fuck…”

Your little black cat sat beside the mangled mess of what used to be your favourite sweater with his tail wrapped neatly around his paws. He looked almost elegant, if you ignored the brutal remains of your top and the threads of fabric in his mouth.

“Come on, man. I _just_ got home. I knew you’d be mad—but I wasn’t even gone that long,” you grumbled as you scooped up the tattered sweater. You carried it out into the small kitchen and tossed it into the bin below the sink. There was no point in keeping it, and you didn’t want to give Shade the satisfaction of having your prized sweater.

“Stupid cat. Stupid sweater. Stupid, mean cat.”

A knock on the door interrupted your complaints, however. For a brief moment, you considered: _did Sans come back?_

You walked to the door and opened it up to an empty hallway. You blinked, “hello?”

On the floor laid a neatly printed note, you picked it up gingerly. In printed font it read “Monster fuckers get dusted.” Lowering the card, you glanced around once more, seeing nothing.

Fear prickled your sides and crept into your limbs. You were frozen in the doorway with the little note clutched in your hand. A small part of you was angry that someone was threatening you. The rest of you was paralyzed with fear.

They had come to your street, been in your building, come to your very door. You felt cold.

_Monster fuckers get dusted._

It echoed in your head, and you remembered Muffet’s discussion of monster deaths and dust. The meaning could not have been clearer.

They would kill you for socialising with the monsters.

You slipped back into your little house, closing the door, and taking care to lock it properly. Numbly, you dragged yourself into your room, the note still held tightly in your fist. You set it on your bedside table, pulled back your covers, and slid into bed. Lampshade hopped up and laid beside you.

You did not sleep; the words just played on repeat in your mind.

And then you did sleep, and your dreams were filled with yelling, anger, guns, and scared faces. You woke with tears in your eyes, and dread in your soul.

You turned to look at the note, still sitting on the bedside table.

What should you do?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a day off for reader. fun with undyne frisk chara and papyrus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy freakin new year ya'll
> 
> im still writing i guess? or getting back into writing. let me work out the kinks and i should hopefully be posting more frequently this year.

Another day off. Today you were taking the time to clean up your little one-bedroom apartment—vacuuming, dusting, dishes, bathroom cleaning, and more. You felt like all you needed was some music, whistling, and maybe a bird or two and you’d be Cinderella.

You stood in the kitchen, water running in the sink, dish in one hand and soapy rag in the other. The apartment didn’t come with a dish washer, which was fine. You preferred to hand wash anyways, it was somewhat relaxing to zone out and do chores.

From your bedroom you could barely hear a ding from your phone. Quickly you finished with the dishes before going to your room to grab your cell.

_Hey nerd, Paps and I are taking Frisk and Chara to the park._

_sounds fun._ You texted, then sent another. _weathers good for it._

Instantly your phone chimed. _We’re going to pick you up in ten minutes._

_wait what?_

 

* * *

 

 “You know when I said that it sounds fun, I didn’t mean I was inviting myself.”

Undyne just laughed and Papyrus hollered “THAT IS OKAY WE KNEW YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO MISS A CHANCE TO PLAY WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND UNDYNE AND THE SMALL HUMANS.”

The pure and unadulterated enthusiasm in Papyrus’ voice brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart, “Sounds great, thanks guys.”

The park was nice, not carefully manicured in the way that parks usually felt. The trees grew a little more naturally, some crooked, some too close together to be that human ideal of ‘aesthetic’. The grass wasn’t cropped as short as the lawns on those suburban houses always seemed to be. Daisies grew along the fence surrounding the park and you could see someone with their dog playing fetch in the distance.

Papyrus was as friendly as ever as he tried to engage both Frisk and Chara. Frisk was generally more genial, the hint of a smile in their face and amber eyes. Chara, however, was stoic. If she laughed, the light did not reach her eyes.

If you were honest, she spooked you somewhat.

Your group came upon a little playground, the bark dust old, but the swings looked somewhat newer. They were reinforced. Vaguely, you remembered some effort being made for the monsters so that their neighbourhoods and parks would be more liveable. The effort only lasted as long as a week before the first very public incident of a monster-related crime occurred. The news never said what had happened and the public twisted the bits of information they were fed into something more ominous.

It turned out that while we could pretty up our appearance, we were still ugly underneath.

We were still hateful. We still could not accept.

You shook your head; you needed to not get worked up over these things. Not while everyone was over playing on the playground and you were standing dumb and frozen and alone.

Or, not alone, you realised as you looked over. Chara was beside you, arms crossed, lip pouted, and watching Frisk and Papyrus run. Undyne chased them gleefully, glowing blue spear in her hands. You’d be worried if it weren’t for the fact that you knew monsters to be pretty gentle and peaceful people. You were sure Frisk was fine even if Undyne and Papyrus were huge and probably much stronger than even the strongest human.

“I didn’t want to come, but I can’t say no to Frisk,” softly spoken, the words had an edge to them. Or, perhaps Chara just had an fierceness to her that made her seem sharp.

“I didn’t know I was coming, but I really want to make friends.”

Honesty for honesty, you decided.

Chara snorted, “Not making many friends over here.”

You glanced at Chara, the half smirk on her face, and those shadowed eyes that trailed after Frisk. You couldn’t decide if that was longing or love or jealousy or all three in her gaze.

“I don’t know, I think I’m doing alright.”

This time she scoffed and offered no further comment, but you could see her shoulders relax fractionally. The two of you watched for another few minutes until Frisk came jogging over, panting.

“Hey,” they gasped for air, stopping in front of you and Chara, “come,” another breath, “join us.”

“I’m not so sure I can keep up with you all,” you started, trailing off uncertainly.

Chara remained silent and shrugged at Frisk. You noticed she determinedly kept her eyes focused elsewhere. Frisk’s pleading gaze was turned onto you.

“Come on,” they cajoled, “it’ll be fun. It’s just tag but more extreme!”

In the background you could still see Undyne and Papyrus running around—spears were flying and— _was that a bone?_ —it looked pretty fun but also way out of your ability.

“How about Chara and I swing while you guys play tag? We’ll be in the midst of the action, but safely not participating,” you suggested.

Chara looked a little relieved, but had no other reaction. You felt like you’d done the right thing though. Even Frisk looked happy with the suggestion as they ran back to play, waving at you both as they did so. You and Chara walked towards the swings and sat. You idly kicked your feet, but Chara looked determined. If ever a kid swung determinedly, this would be it.

At least she looked like she was having more fun now. You still watched the antics of Undyne and Frisk as they chased Papyrus—though sometimes he changed it on them and they’d be the ones running, laughing, just generally being silly. Sitting here in the park with the sounds of laughter all around felt good. You felt a warmth inside.

“Stop that,” Chara said with disdain, “stop feeling gooey. You’re pushing it onto me and it’s annoying.”

“What?”

“Ugh, never mind.”

She continued to swing. You schooled your face into a more neutral look, maybe she didn’t like big goofy smile on your face. Birds chirped, and you listened to the song. Sometimes you felt like you could hear their feelings. Their little bird feelings. You stifled a laugh at the thought.

 

* * *

 

They got tired after a while—though really, Frisk was the only one who seemed tired. Undyne and Papyrus seemed like they could’ve kept running for ages despite the sweat glistening on her fish-like scales and on his chalky white bones.

You wanted to question what biology reasoned that bones or scales could sweat, but you already knew that there was no satisfying answer. Their biology was assisted by magic not science, though monsters claimed there to not be such an extreme difference between the two fields like humans claimed.

“Why don’t we get icecream?” You suggested to the group.

It was met with a lot of enthusiasm, with Frisk suggesting you and Chara grab the icecreams while other three found a picnic table to hang out at.

Chara shrugged and off you guys went to the cute little icecream cart at the edge of the park.

Or, rather, the _nice_ cream stand as it was apparently called. _How cute_ , you thought smiling at the mother and child in line ahead of you, ordering two regular nicecreams. The pair opened theirs and read the compliments out loud as they left.

You stepped up and paused when you realised you knew the monster behind the stand.

He didn’t seem the least bit interested in you, however, instead you could sense that were he human and had the appropriate facial features with which to narrow his eyes, he would’ve been narrowing his eyes as he stared down Chara.

She seemed unfazed, but you’d be more concerned if she did show some kind of emotional response. To you, she seemed like one of those stoic types—stoic and just a little mischievous if the gleam in her amber eyes were anything to go by.

“Lesser brother,” she greeted casually.

“’sup royal pain,” he responded just as easily.

“Uh,” you started, “hi, can we get…” you tried to count quickly in your head, but Chara picked up where you trailed off.

“Three regular nicecreams and two blue dazzlers.”

He offered no reply, just quickly retrieved the pops and icecreams. You paid for them and that was that.

Quietly, you felt a bit disappointed at the lack of acknowledgement. You had thought that you and him were getting to be friendly, or at the very least civil, but he ignored you in favour of glaring at the teenager.

For someone who seemed so easy going he obviously held some grudges.

The two of you left and walked for a moment in silence. You were weighing whether or not to ask about that awkward exchange when Chara spoke.

“He hates me, but I don’t blame him,” a brief pause, “I’m not fond of him either.”

You stayed quiet, but freed one hand from the frozen treats to gently grab Chara’s hand. She didn’t pull away.

“My… brother… underground… he gave up something precious to save me. He was so determined to save me. Frisk understands—they’re probably able to tell you more. I don’t know all of what happened. I don’t know a lot of my past, the parts I remember are why… I don’t blame Sans for hating me.”

“Chara, people make mistakes. You’re a kid, even though you’re getting older. You’ll be a kid a while yet. You… you can’t take all the blame for whatever happened.”

“I think in this circumstance, I can.”

She dropped your hand and kept walking, having apparently spotted your friends.

You wasted no time in following, but continued to talk, “I don’t mean to dismiss your feelings. I don’t know what happened. No huma—surface humans know what happened. There’s nothing you could’ve done that couldn’t be forgiven though.”

And that was when she said the thing that put a bit of fear and doubt in your heart: “You are _naïve._ You don’t know anything about the monsters or Frisk or me. You don’t know what I’ve done, or Asgore, or Sans. You don’t know what Undyne’s done. Not everything is forgivable.”

She kept marching towards the group and you slowed to allow her some space, mulling over her words. Chara had your head spinning, not just because of what she’d said, but because of her intense personality and sudden shifts in mood. Perhaps she just felt vulnerable after having talked about something so personal and difficult with someone like you, who was still practically a stranger to the kid.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and jogged to catch up, Before the two of you reached your friends you said to Chara, “it’s okay. I might be naïve. I’m telling you though, I don’t know what you guys have been through. I’m here if you ever need to talk about it though. I won’t judge you.”

She scoffed, but you couldn’t reason out why.

_What could really be so bad that she’s done?_

The other thought on your mind was of Sans and Undyne: _what could they have done that’s so terrible?_

The uncomfortable conversation was swept from your mind in time as you sat at the picnic table and engaged with your new friends.

 

* * *

 

You didn’t get home until later that night.

Chara had cheered up after the nicecreams and even joined in on a game of tag—which had meant you had to as well. They went easy on the two of you, but teased you both mercilessly.

Your cheeks were sore from smiling.

Most of the afternoon had been spent with the four of them, and the evening with Undyne after Papyrus had taken the kids to Toriel’s home. Everything considered, the day had been a monumental success.

At night, though, when you didn’t have your friends to distract you, you puzzled over the meaning of Chara’s tirade.


End file.
